


The Peacebringer of Ikane

by Quin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Fantasy, M/M, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Pining, Requited Mutual Pining, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-11-25 22:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20919656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quin/pseuds/Quin
Summary: Isolated from the world to protect the child he is carrying, Reynard, the king of Ouvrinia, worries more and more about the whereabouts of Raphael. Will his husband by arranged marriage return from the War of Eons soon? Will Reynard and Raphael be able to form a relationship bond past their duty to a prophecy that promises peace?





	The Peacebringer of Ikane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).

> Thank you to my beta TexasDreamer01!

1

Reynard groaned as a wave of abdominal pain shook his body. He wanted to curl up, but he felt too heavy to move. His breath came in small puffs, sweat was pooling on his forehead, slowly starting to drip down - he clutched the blanket in a useless attempt to gain control of what was happening to him. Reynard’s stomach was hard as a stone; there was a pull to his groins, pressure building up inside him, waiting to be released. Not now, not yet. This was way too early.

Reynard turned his head to his nightstand, his gaze confirming what he had already feared. The small vial was empty. Damn that old witch who had refused to give him a large supply of her potions. He could have called his personal servant to send for Gullveig, but truth be told he didn’t want to see her. He was a grown man, apparently even the father of the royal saviour that would end all wars on the continent of Ikane, not some sickly imbecile. He was pregnant, dozens of women before him had successfully carried and born children. Did it matter that much that he was supposed to be the first male? Reynard didn’t understand why Gullveig made such a fuss.

Everything that came out of her cauldron gave him more nausea; her monotonous chanting caused him a headache, though worst of all Gullveig insisted that Reynard should stay in bed all the time. Separated from everyone and from every word of news that could possibly upset Reynard and hence the baby. Nobody had told him in weeks where Raphael was, what he was doing, and when he was coming back.

Raphael. Reynard sighed. He wished Raphael was here, not fighting the Hornfurs or some other enemy who used to be an ally of Ouvrinia before. Although Raphael had been introduced to Reynard just a couple of days before their wedding - and stayed long enough to ensure that Reynard became pregnant - Reynard believed his husband was the only one who would truly understand all of Reynard’s turmoil. Raphael hadn’t had any say in his choice of spouse either.

As for Reynard, he had stopped seeing himself as much of a ruler to his kingdom. A king should hold all the reins, listening to his advisors, yes. Nevertheless, he should be the one carrying the responsibility. As a king, he should decide what was necessary to provide for his subjects in their daily struggle to hold themselves upright in this conflict. Nobody any longer understood its origins. Someone had neatly termed it the War or Eons.

Yet bit by bit he had succumbed to the witches’ revelations. With their ability to cast their inner eye behind the veil of reality, Gullveig and her sistren had foreseen the arrival of the Peacebringer of Ikane. There were those forces that objected peace as they profited from selling weapons, arcane spells, and magical artefacts to all the conflicting parties. To safeguard the child and any potential mothers, the sisterhood had secretly decreed that a man would bear the saviour. Ouvrinia lay secluded in the Fractured Mountains, an ideal place to hide the Peacebringer until they came out of age.

Reynard clutched a cushion as the waves of pain slowly subsided. At the moment, he couldn’t care less about the prophecy. Back then, all that Reynard had craved was an heir signing Gullveig’s blood contract without asking any questions. The only thing he wanted now was some honest, compassionate company in the form of his husband. It was not that Reynard didn’t care about peace, but a small selfish part of him longed to be appreciated as person and not to be seen as a means to an end. He knew that as a monarch he didn’t have that privilege.

However, there was still something Reynard presumed to do for himself. With some effort, he propped himself up into a sitting position, took three deep breaths and then got up. There was one thing he needed to do every day. Afterwards, he would return to bed.

He exchanged his nightshirt for a woollen tunic and a matching woollen coat. With his belly being the size of a large ball, it was no use trying to put on any shoes by himself. It didn’t matter to Reynard. It was still late summer and it wasn’t far to the Great Tower. He didn’t want to alert his overzealous manservant - who in turn would probably alert Jeronimous, the Marquis of Herst, his current regent and also steward, who would of course send for Gullveig.

Reynard slowly toddled over to the door of his chambers and opened it. The guards so much acknowledged him as it was the duty of any subject in the kingdom to bow before their king. But, they wouldn’t pose a problem in hindering Reynard to ascend to the top of the castle. Antoine, the Grandmaster of the Royal Order of Ouvrinia, owed his life to Reynard, and he wouldn’t listen to anyone but his sovereign. He understood that his king needed his peace and had instructed the guards accordingly.

As gracefully as he could, Reynard tried to climb each stair, although every so often he had to pause and lean against the wall for support. Each time, his body seemed to possess less energy - directing naturally most of it towards the baby. Reynard believed Gullveig’s magic would shield the little one against any possible harm. Of course, he wouldn’t do anything that would endanger the child. At first the concept of a baby had been alien to him. The heir to the crown everyone expected Ouvrinia to have and never forget the Peacebringer foretold, the unifier of the people of Ikane. It just had been another part in a strategic plan to work in the best interest of the kingdom. There were some pretty high expectations to shoulder for someone who had yet to set a foot into this world.

As the baby grew from a tiny poppy seed that Reynard couldn’t quite fathom into a visible bulge of his belly that was accompanied by small kicks, the true meaning of it all caught up to him. There would be a real person here with him soon. Reynard was an only child whose parents had died while fighting in the war. A family would await him once Raphael returned and their baby was born. He couldn’t stop fretting, though.

What if the the sisterhood’s glimpses into the future were clouded after all? The veil was constantly moving, the events of tomorrow and the day after not set in stone. What if unifier didn’t denote saviour, but oppression?

What their baby needed most would be its parents’ love and guidance. Reynard swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect the little one from false influence, would shield them from too much pressure on their shoulders. He wanted Raphael’s and his child to grow up into a kind person who would listen without bias, a person who heard out everyone before they made a decision. He couldn’t do it alone, and king or not king, Reynard needed to rely on help. Raphael’s help.

And there Reynard was where he had started. Especially on days like these, Reynard’s mind went often astray, thoughts coming and going in circles. Maybe his mind tried to distract him from the strain his body was in, or maybe his body reacted to his fruitless ruminations.

Reynard continued ascending the steps one by one, trying to concentrate on his movements rather than on his thoughts. Nevertheless, his head wouldn’t clear. Would Raphael finally return today? Tentatively, Reynard took the tread and walked into the open.

The sun was rising just above the horizon, a yellow sphere sending rays of hope. Sunrise was the only time of the day when the Infinity Bridge that separated Ouvrinia from the rest of Ikane was lowered. At any other hour the winds in the Fractured Mountains were too strong to guarantee safe passage into Ouvrinia. It depended on the season how long the bridge stayed open and if Raphael didn’t arrive within the hour today, another day would go by until the next crossing would be possible. As the minutes trickled by, Reynard grew more and more apprehensive. He missed the calming effect Raphael had on him. Reynard’s husband was an unobtrusive knight, only speaking up when he had something important to say in contrast to many other courtiers who thought the more they talked the more they would be noticed. Reynard appreciated Raphael’s genuine modesty and his quiet insights.

Reynard wasn’t aware of the reason why Gullveig and her sistren had chosen Raphael to be the father of their awaited Peacebringer, with Raphael being of rather low birth. Apart from being skilled with the sword he didn’t bring anything else into this marriage. He had no relations and connections to other kingdoms on Ikane, no influence in any orders or guilds, owned neither property nor land they could use in any peace negotiations. Raphael could keep a secret, but so could any other men if offered only enough for the silence of their tongue.

Instead of getting coin and a fancy new title, Gullveig and Jeronimous had sent Raphael off to war.

Reynard’s heart tore at the thought that something could have happened to Raphael. What if the Hornfurs had taken him prisoner? What if they demanded the soon to be born baby in return? He could never make that choice, but he knew how the sisterhood would decide. No, no, no. Reynard wished there was a potion to stop the brain when it had fruitless ideas. Instead, he needed to cherish all the memories he had of Raphael and make plans for a joyful future.

Before Raphael came into his life, Reynard had been a lonely human being, drowning in a sea of pretenders of innocence - who actually tried to prey on him and his goodwill for a scrape of gold and power. He swore to himself that he would not be lonely again.

Reynard took a step forward to gain a better view of the Infinity Bridge. With a ferocious howl the wind picked up, his eyes blurring from small leaves, twigs and dirt that were swept into his face. He tried wiping them, but in vain, he couldn’t see.

Were the guards already raising the bridge or was there still time for a crossing? Despite his resolution to stay positive, a sense of anxiety overcame him, followed by a wave of dizziness. Reynard chided himself again. If Raphael didn’t arrive today, it would be tomorrow.

Then why of all reasons now was he short of breath again?

His muscles seemingly had cramped up with his back hurting again, his whole body felt sweat-soaked, he had to swallow not to retch, his sight became more and more blurred until he couldn’t tell the difference between up and down, left and right anymore. What in Kizdea’s name was happening to him? He sent a quick prayer to the Goddess of Strength and Vigour before his world went black.

2

Raphael spurred his horse onwards, up yet another steep slope while large drops of rain whipped his skin. Well, at least it would wash some of the dirt and blood away. He had travelled too many days, been in too many battles. He longed to be back home with a solid roof over his head, a bed close to a fireplace and maybe one warm meal in the evening. He longed for the certainty of a day with a set schedule, a simple life for a simple man.

Except, Raphael thought, his life had stopped being simple after his marriage to King Reynard. When you were far away from Ouvrinia and your focus was on fighting to survive, you hadn’t time to worry about the past and the future. But the higher he went up the Fractured Mountains, the more his nerves started to kick in. Yes, Raphael had successfully finished the mission given to him by the king’s counsellors. He had commanded the Tenth Order of Ouvrinia and together with the other Orders, they had driven the Hornfurs back to the bleak ice deserts in the north of Ikane. But Raphael expected no reward, no special recognition. Duty was duty.

Had his other duties born fruit? It left him wondering what his position with the king was. Would His Majesty and his council get rid of Raphael once the Peacebringer of Ikane had come into the world? From the beginning on, Gullveig had it made very clear to Raphael that, beyond his one purpose to father the promised child, he was useless to her.

He sighed. All his life he had taken his obligations seriously and never doubted the righteousness of his elders, keeping his thoughts in line, prioritising the need of others before his own. Upon meeting King Reynard, though, Raphael’s attitude had become shaky. He was unlike any other high nobility Raphael had encountered. Weirdly enough, the king had seemed to be interested in his person, had asked his personal opinion on political and strategic matters and even his preferences for food when nobody else had involved him in the wedding preparations. All Raphael had received from other people in positions of power were orders to please them, not conversations to assert him.

Even during their wedding night, after they had fulfilled their duty, King Reynard had uttered his wish for Raphael to stay with him, not commanded it. Maybe Raphael had imagined it, though back then it had almost sounded like pleading. So Raphael had kept His Majesty company every night waiting for the king to fall asleep until the witches had declared the pregnancy safe and sound, and then Raphael had been sent off to war.

They had not talked much, both of their days filled up to the brim with work, but Raphael had somehow believed that King Reynard had enjoyed the hours they’ve spent together alone. Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. With each day away from Ouvrinia, Raphael’s memories had been fading. Who knew how the brain really worked? What if it had made his time with the king more pleasant than it had truly been?

Coming face-to-face with the sharp claws of a Hornfur had scared Raphael less than the prospect of coming close to King Reynard again. A part in his stupid, pitiful heart held the hope high that the ruler of Ouvrinia honestly wanted a true relationship with him. Raphael should have never read “The Runaway Prince and His Disobedient Servant”. A trashy book not worth the paper it was written on, in Gullveig’s opinion. He had thrown several excuses at her why he had read the book. Nevertheless, he had kept it after she was done with her tirade. She had been right after all; the romance novel had planted ideas in Raphael’s head he couldn’t get rid of anymore. Even though he was a knight and not a groom, in the end he was a servant in a kingdom with a set hierarchy. There was only one reason why Gullveig and her sister had chosen him as King Reynard’s husband and that was the one reason Raphael was ashamed of. He’d rather not think of it. There was nothing else he could offer King Reynard, nothing that others didn’t possess more of - not any skill, wisdom or riches.

The Infinity Bridge wasn’t far anymore. Raphael estimated he could reach Ouvrinia in less than two days. Yet, the closer he came to entering the kingdom, the more he slowed down. He scolded himself for worrying too much. If there were only potions to get rid of his feelings, but Gullveig would laugh at him if he told her this. Deferring things didn’t help the matter, and nobody probably would notice his arrival anyway. He would report back, probably get a day’s rest where he could try to gather as much news as possible, and then they would send him away on a new mission. Whatever it was, he actually didn’t care.

The mountain winds gaining more and more strength forced Raphael to speed up his journey after all. He didn’t want to risk becoming a plaything for the might of nature. His anxieties didn’t mean anything if he never would have the chance to see King Reynard again! And the baby. He craved to see the child, just hold it once in his arms. What would they look like it? Would the baby have King Reynard’s lush dark hair? Would Raphael be able to recognize himself in the child? But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Raphael would be happy if they only could have a moment as a family. Raphael himself was an orphan who had been lucky enough to be taken in by an old hag, but family time had been rare.

Raphael spent the night in a small cave, plagued by wild dreams where he reached out to Reynard and the small infant. Despite how much effort Raphael exercised, the king always continued walking to the edge of a mountain ridge, cradling the baby in his arms, not listening once to Raphael’s shouting to stop.

In the morning, Raphael woke up soaked with sweat and confused by the still lingering nightmares. He needed a few minutes to shake off the vivid dream images. Still, a sense of urgency overcame him. Without further ado, Raphael took his horse by the reins and led the bay on. The path had become too narrow for safe riding. Raphael tried to hurry, yet to keep his footing steady. If his ears didn’t deceive him, he could already hear the squeaking and creaking of the hinges that indicated the Infinity Bridge being lowered. He shot up a glance at the sky. He had one hour; that should be enough to reach the kingdom today.

As Raphael set a foot onto the bridge, he was met with vigorous sways, gale after gale going after him. However, the mighty gusts helped clear his mind, his determination never wavering once. He safely reached the end of the Infinity Bridge and the guards let him pass without asking any questions.

Raphael put his horse into the stables absent-mindedly, mulling over what to do next. Somehow his intuition overruled his conscience. He would write up that report later. There were others in his Order who surely had already gotten their reports in, no lives would depend on another piece of paper piling up on the steward’s and grandmaster’s desks.

Although the winds at the bridge had done him well, Raphael selfishly decided he wanted another quarter of an hour to himself. Hoping that nobody would notice him and call him off to his duties, Raphael made his way through the castle. He passed the bailey and into the great hall. Luckily for him, the people of Ouvrinia were early risers, being already at work and minding their own business. Nonetheless, Raphael held his breath until he had passed by the Counsellor’s study and Gullveig’s chamber in the Rook’s Tower.

As he made it onto the battlements, Raphael paused for a while to take in the magnificent view from the top of the castle. He stood under a parapet that shielded him from the worst of the winds’ blows, so he could watch how the green carpet of the trees’ cones rippled underneath the hand of Amihan, Goddess of the North and the Four Seasons.

Between the many clusters of oaks, maples and pines there were rugged cliffs, jagged pieces of rock whose shapes changed with each day as they were battered down by wind and water. From a mountain ledge, the Thundering Rapids surged forward to fill the valley below with its life. It was good to be home, to see a place so vivid that made Raphael forget the wasteland that the Hornfurs had left behind during their brutal campaign.

Despite his strenuous climb to the top and his warm coat he wore over his gambeson, Raphael started to feel chilly. He wanted to leave, but a whimpering sound stopped him. At first, he thought it was another howl of the wind. However, the feeling of urgency that had overcome him at the Infinity Bridge returned with sudden force.

Sometimes, Raphael was overcome by a sense of something not being quite right. It wasn’t like he could put a finger on it, name it, but it had often helped him in battle. Ignoring the winds intensifying, he rushed over the wall-walk towards the entrance of the Great Tower. Someone lay slumped with their back to the battlements, apparently unconscious. Raphael turned white as ash when he recognized the king. What was he doing here not properly dressed, even barefoot? He stared at His Majesty’s enormous belly, his mouth turning dry. What about the baby? King Reynard looked like he would burst any moment.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, can you hear me?” Raphael softly shook the king by his shoulders. He removed his own coat to cover half of Reynard’s bump, his legs and feet.

Reynard groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to focus on Raphael’s face. Raphael swallowed hard as fear wrapped its tight arms around him.

“Guards, guards, I need help!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, failing to keep the shakiness out of his voice. It felt like an eternity until two soldiers stormed through the door looking for an enemy that obviously wasn’t there. Raphael impatiently waved them over.

“Carry His Majesty to his bedchamber,” he instructed them curtly. He wanted to sprint off to notify the sistren, but suddenly the king grasped him by his arm.

“Raphael, is that you?” he moaned. “Please never leave again.” Reynard’s gentle voice beseeching him tore at Raphael’s heart.

Raphael took Reynard’s hand into his hand and softly squeezed it. “Everything will be all right, Your Majesty, I promise.” Raphael could hardly convince himself, but for Reynard and their baby’s sake he had better be strong. “I’ll fetch Gullveig.”

“No, no, no.” Reynard frantically objected, leaving Raphael bewildered. Surely, there was no reason why the king didn’t want to see Gullveig, so it meant Reynard wanted Raphael to stay.

When the guards had finally placed the king into his bed, Raphael sent one of them off to fetch the old witch and told the second one to inform the Marquis of Herst. Then he settled on a stool, unsure of what he should do next. His head was swimming as he observed Reynard panting. Raphael started chewing on his nails. Where was Gullveig? What was taking her so long? And if Gullveig was elsewhere, why hadn’t any of the other witches appeared to check on the king now? He began tapping his feet impatiently.

“Raphael, could you please stop,” the king said in a calm voice.

Raphael felt his cheeks turn red. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. How thoughtless of me to fill this room with my restlessness.”

“It is all right. I understand.” Reynard squinted against rays of the sun that were falling through the large window one the right side of the room. The king motioned towards a spot on the bed next to him. He must have noticed Raphael’s wide eyes though, since he added, pointing towards his belly: “I think it’s going to take a while. I reckon it was just the first phase. I am as nervous as you are and it would please me if you spent the waiting time with me.”

Still puzzled why the king wanted him to sit on the bed – Raphael could have just as good waited while remaining on that chair - he moved over, carefully placing himself on the edge of the mattress, not sure how much distance Reynard still wanted between the two of them.

“Your Majesty, are you sure you still have got some time? To be honest, it makes me…,” he hesitated to find the right words, “… I would be more at ease if Gullveig or one of the other sistren were here. Just to be safe.”

Reynard stayed silent for several seconds as if to listen for any signs of what his body planned to do. Then he turned his head towards Raphael, giving him a small smile. “Right now, I only sense some minor contractions in my abdomen. You know, I am glad you’re back. Nobody gave me any information concerning you or the campaign against the Hornfurs. They thought it could have a negative impact on my pregnancy, but hearing nothing…this uncertainty didn’t have a positive effect either, if you could say so. Are you well? What happened?”

Raphael’s heart took a small leap upon hearing that Reynard indeed had thought of him while he was gone and the reason why he had never directly heard from the king. “Thank you for your concern, I am well, Your Majesty.” He did a quick recount how they had marched upon Dinton Fortress, freed the Saelmeres’s that were trapped inside from the Hornfurs and the gruesome journey that meant locking up their enemy in the northern ice deserts.

“I am proud of you,” the king said when Raphael had ended his report.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Raphael fiddled with the blanket, not knowing what else to say to this unexpected compliment. He didn’t doubt the genuineness of it; he just didn’t know how to handle it. “I was just doing my duty.”

“I am sorry they didn’t supply you with any news on what’s happened here in Ouvrinia either. I am afraid that at the moment Gullveig and Jeronimous are the true rulers of the kingdom.”

“I do not fault you, Your Majesty,” Raphael replied solemn, “but this does not feel right. A pregnancy is not an illness. Even if you are the first known man to be pregnant and even though they attribute the birth such significance, they should have involved you in all affairs. My old tutor used to say helping people to help themselves is the most important to make them achieve something, helping spurt their personal growth. Needless to say Gullveig never liked him much. But see, Gullveig is still not here. Neither is the honourable Marquis of Herst.

“What if something happened to them? It does not need the perils of war; a severe illness or a fall in the Fractured Mountains is all what it would take to incapacitate someone. Personally, I am of the opinion that this exposes our kingdom to unnecessary risks.” Raphael unconsciously started picking loose threads from the blanket.

“I may not be in the position to judge them, but I have the impression that both Gullveig and the Marquis of Herst prefer to have things firmly under control. Therefore they are not prone to sharing information. Now if we needed to regather all the information they did not share, we would lose valuable time. And we can’t afford that if we ever want this war to end.”

Raphael took a deep breath, adding quietly. “Also, I don’t want to jeopardise the baby’s well-being.” When Reynard didn’t immediately answer him, Raphael feared he had talked too much. He uttered his worries.

The king shook his head. “No, quite the contrary. As I previously said, I am relieved that you have returned to me. I am always grateful for your honest opinion.”

Raphael shrugged. “I don’t have any influence here. And even if I had, I am not sure I was up to enforcing my opinion, Your Majesty.”

Reynard sent him another one of these small smiles that made Raphael’s stomach flutter. “Oh but you do, Raphael. You’re my husband after all. And I can enforce any sensible opinion of yours. Just, you know, when we are alone, you can stop calling me Your Majesty. Reynard does it well enough.”

Raphael felt once more embarrassed. But even so there was a tiny part of him that hoped that the growing familiarity he had felt with the king before he had left hadn’t been a figment of his imagination and that they could continue where they left off.

Without warning, Reynard shot up and let out a muffled cry. Raphael moved over instinctively, so Reynard could hold onto him. Nobody would come and interfere if they weren’t a sister, so it was only Raphael who was able to offer some support. Reynard dug his nails into Raphael’s side as his face twisted in pain. Raphael wished he could so something to lessen Reynard’s suffering, but from what the king had told him and from what Raphael knew of female birth, he assumed this was the mere beginning. He carefully held Reynard’s head in place as the king experienced another convulsion. After what seemed to be an eternity, Reynard’s body ceased shaking and his breathing steadied once more.

“Would you like something to drink?” Raphael asked and the king nodded. Raphael went over to the nightstand and poured some water from a pottered jug into a mug. He returned to the bed and Reynard took the mug from him, emptying it in one drain.

“Do you want some more?”

“No, it’s all good now,” Reynard rearranged his position and his clothes. “Just come back here.”

Raphael obeyed him, this time sitting in close proximity to Reynard.

“Where was I?” the king mused. “Well, Jeronimous likes power, but he would never defy me. He has lost too many family members precious to him in this War of Eons. His highest priority is still peace. Once our child is born, I will make it clear to him that we as the baby’s parents need to be involved and what reining a kingdom truly signifies. I am not sure about Gullveig, though. I am afraid I’ve never understood those witches.”

Raphael twitched his lips. “The sistren are worshippers of the Gods that bestowed them with their magical power. And people, whether they are human, Hornfurs, Saelmeres or whatever, who assume too much power inevitably thwart the Gods.”

“It is only that less and less people are believers of the Old.” Reynard rubbed his chin, and then inclined his head towards Raphael. “It’s no wonder with this war. You expect the Gods would bring peace, but… .” He threw his hands upwards, empty palms showing, and let them fall down into his lap again.

“I am not surprised a lot of knowledge got lost with many kingdoms being pillaged, whole villages being put to the torch.” Raphael made a sad face. Gods or no Gods, he mourned all those precious books and scrolls that had been burnt. “They say that even the sistren’s magic themselves became less effective over the centuries. In many kingdoms the sistren are merely nothing more than herb wives. It’s no wonder so many swindlers try to make a quick coin by selling fake artefacts and potions.“ He sighed in frustration, before continuing with his explanation.

“Regarding Gullveig, she would like to restore peace because she wants to return the balance to this world and save magic. She says, it’s something precious and if we fail, the veil of reality will permanently tear and we won’t be able to escape this chaos. It’s all set in the sistren’s beliefs and as long as we share a common goal, Gullveig will understand and help.”

Reynard was impressed. “I feel up to now I didn’t know anything about Gullveig and the other witches. To be honest, in the past I only cared about an heir for Ouvrinia. I had to fulfill my subjects’ expectations. At first I thought she tricked me with this story about the saviour to gain access to our gold chambers.” He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish.

“Though when I became really pregnant, at least I started believing in her magic abilities. Never doubt my wish for peace, even though I am still questioning the belief that the child is the Peacebringer of Ikane. It’s a baby. It needs loving guidance; it’s not to be weighted down with all those expectations and responsibilities.“ Reynard rested his hands gently on his belly, his gaze softening.

“And all Gullveig’s fussing over me with foul tasting potions and the repetitive chanting of the sistren without me being able to contribute something to the cause besides lying in bed drove me insane. That’s the reason why I didn’t want to see her. Somehow, I don’t know why, I have the feeling I could bring the baby into the world without her. However, you appear to have more confidence in Gullveig. I am bit surprised; how do you know more about witches than anybody else?”

“Uhm, urgh,” Raphael stuttered. Thank the Gods someone knocked on the door.

“Your Majesty, Sir Raphael.” It was one of the guards Raphael had sent away to inform the Marquis of Herst, respectively to fetch Gullveig. “I’ve a message for you from the Marquis of Herst.”

Raphael went over to the door and took the parchment from the guard, then closed the door once more.

“Shall I read it to you?”

“Yes, please. I mean, we get some news after all,” Reynard said with good natured sarcasm.

Raphael broke the seal. He skipped over the many titles that were the king’s and started with: “… there was another attack on Dinton Fortress, this time by the Tribes of the Crossed Blades. We cannot lose Dinton Fortress again. We found something there that if lost to our enemies, it will tip the fortunes of war against us - make even an attack on Ouvrinia possible. Those are Gullveig’s words. But she also wants to assure Your Majesty that she and her sistren will have everything under control and they promise to return soon.”

Raphael grimaced. So Gullveig wouldn’t come after all. “Reynard?”

“Yes, Raphael?” The king was rather unfazed by the content of the message. On the contrary, he seemed to be pleased that Raphael had used his first name.

“Doesn’t it worry you that Gullveig now certainly won’t be back in time for the birth?”

“You on the other hand don’t seem to be worried about Gulllveig and Dinton Fortress,” Reynard assessed.

“She and the sistren have been in battle before. They will defeat the Tribes and retrieve, I guess, some magical artefact.” Before Reynard could ask again how Raphael had gained so much knowledge about the witches, he quickly posed another question: “Why do you prefer bringing the child alone into the world if you could have Gullveig’s help?”

“Raphael, please understand I care as much about the baby’s well-being as you. Don’t start pacing the room. Come sit with me again and let me explain it to you.”

“It wasn’t meant as a reproach.” Raphael removed his shoes to sit fully on the bed. “It’s only– I don’t want you to feel infantilised by me like you obviously feel by Gullveig and the Marquis – I feel responsible that the baby arrives in this world safely. And it’s still magic, after all.”

“Because it’s your child as well.” Reynard stated, and Raphael was glad that he didn’t dig deeper into that other topic of Gullveig. This time it was the king’s turn to take Raphael’s hand. His skin felt wonderfully warm against Raphael’s own cold fingers.

“See,” Reynard continued, “although I said I would clear things up with Jeronimous and Gullveig, I fear that I will be vulnerable during birth. I don’t know what plans they will have for our baby, but I don’t want it to be taken away when I can’t do anything about it. Remember what I said a few moments ago? That there are so many expectations towards the child as the one saviour to the War of Eons. I am afraid there will be a ton of people trying to influence our baby from its first day in the world that it can’t have a carefree childhood; that it will be messed up.”

He ground his teeth, inevitably giving Raphael’s hand a hard squeeze. But it was only a moment later that Reynard realised his mistake. He began to tenderly rub Raphael’s fingers again.

“What would I have given for a carefree childhood. It’s enough for me that you are here. You are the father of our baby and together we will manage. If Gullveig so much believed in this prophecy of hers, she knew that leaving wouldn’t jeopardise the birth. You didn’t doubt her before, so doesn’t sound this reasonable to you, too?”

Raphael quietly sighed. He was conflicted. He couldn’t see any fault in Reynard’s reasoning. Nevertheless, there were some implications for him due to the fact that Gullveig had left him alone with the king. “It’s important to me, too, that our child has the best childhood possible, if you allow me to have a part in it that would make me very happy. Though that’s happening after the baby is born and the condition for that is the birth to go well.”

“Why are you fretting so much, Raphael?” the king asked him, while drawing Raphael closer with his left arm.

“I am not,” Raphael objected, being aware that it was a most obvious lie. “Why am I fretting when you, no offense, were or are apprehensive, as well? Does it only matter because our worries are at different angles?”

“Yes, I admit to being a worrier. But that was because I was alone and had nobody to confide in. A sorrow that’s shared is half a sorrow.” Reynard rested his head on Raphael’s shoulder. “I’ve the feeling you’re still holding something back. Something that might be crucial, right now. Of course, it’s still up to you if you want to tell me… but for better for worse, and in good times and in bad. Please let me help you with that burden of yours.”

Raphael relished in Reynard’s body heat as long as it lasted. He didn’t want to give up on this moment. Finally, he let out another sigh. “I am not sure if you could stand me being around any longer if I told you. But maybe it’s for the better. The truth always comes out, eventually, doesn’t it? I’ve a confession to make.”

Reynard raised his eyebrows, but then he looked up at Raphael encouragingly with a friendly expression on his face. So far, he hadn’t let go of Raphael’s hand either. On the opposite, the king had his fingers firmly entwined with his. “I don’t think there’s anything that you could say that would make me think of you as a lesser person.”

“How can you say this? We haven’t known each other for that long. Most of the time I’ve been away.” Raphael fidgeted nervously.

“But it’s the time you’ve been here that counts. You see many of the courtiers have been longer around than you, have talked to me more often. It was mostly hot air, servile flattery, trying to win petty favours against another competitor.” Reynard rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been truly enjoying our few conversations, whether they were about preserving the forest in Ouvrinia, although it means we have less farming space, or whether we’ve discussed the music of the mountain pipe organs. I knew we had to send you to battle - every able person has been sent off to war for at least several months - but it was neither my wish that we were separated by battle nor that we couldn’t exchange any letters.” The king looked wistfully at Raphael.

“I was hoping that fighting in the War of Eons wouldn’t change you so much, that we could continue where we had left off, though of course war changes everyone. Yet I believe that what is bothering you doesn’t have anything to do with war per se, or am I wrong? Now, if you wouldn’t mind holding onto me and start telling me what’s on your mind.”

Raphael gulped. “I am Gullveig’s grandson. Or great-grandson, I am not exactly certain,” he blurted out. There, he had spilled the truth. When Reynard didn’t react with an appalled outcry immediately, Raphael just rambled on, hoping he could justify his origins. Or explain his reason of being. Or whatever.

“Witches are daughters of witches. They are organised in sisterhoods. They live without husbands or fathers. In fact, they also don’t have sons. Not because they wouldn’t want to, but it’s because it is the way it has always been with witches. As in the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” Raphael felt himself speed up despite his best efforts not to stumble over his words.

“Not for Gullveig’s daughter or granddaughter though – she just had me, no other children whether daughter or son. I never knew her. Almost all my life I’ve been some adjunct of Gullveig, living with her, but of course she didn’t take me anywhere with her when it concerned matters of witchcraft. I don’t want to complain, I got everything I needed.” His mouth was dry, he gulped several times, trying not to lose his train of thought.

“Still though, there’s a lingering feeling that something is wrong with me. Like I am the reason why the other sistren might have tried to undermine Gullveig’s position.” Raphael licked his lips, trying to wet them - in vain. “I am sceptical that marrying me to you is her way of payback to them; she’s not that petty or egoistical. Did you ever have anybody specific on your mind for a spouse? I bet there would have been a ton of eligible courtiers.”

Reynard had been attentively listening to Raphael and to Raphael’s relief the king’s facial expression still wasn’t showing any judgement. “Hmmm, not really,” he answered Raphael’s question. “What I’ve said before continues to be valid, I am glad it’s you and not some self-loving power-hungry noble. And even if Gullveig’s reasons are purely selfish, her reasons are not yours. You had as much a say in this as I had.” Reynard brushed a strand of red hair out of Raphael’s face. “Still not content?”

“I feel like a weirdo,” Raphael admitted.

Reynard suddenly snorted; then quickly made a gesture of dismissal. “I don’t laugh about you, Raphael. I certainly don’t want to hurt your feelings. It’s only ironic when you consider how common a pregnant man is. So we’re both weird then. Or as I’d say - rather extraordinary.”

“Extraordinary? You know when you live with a witch, you do pick things up. And right now I’ve come to the daunting conclusion that Gullveig expects me to help you bring the baby into this world. Not as a husband who supports the delivering person, not even as the midwife would do, no, with some magic,” Raphael exclaimed, letting go of Reynard to wildly gesticulate with his arms. “I’ve never done this before. I am not a witch. What if I fail and do the Gods know what to our child? A male witch, what on Ikane is that?”

Abruptly, Reynard grabbed Raphael by the collar of his tunic and pressed his mouth on Raphael’s. Surprised by the king’s move, Raphael struggled a bit – for a man in the late stages of pregnancy Reynard was extremely agile - but then he relaxed as the king awakened his hidden desires.

A low moan escaped him as he opened his mouth to meet Reynard’s tongue. His husband tasted richly after treacle and plums. It threatened to overwhelm Raphael. He grabbed Reynard by his shoulders to steady himself as their kiss grew more passionate. Reynard buried his hands in Raphael’s hair and Raphael wished his husband would never let go. He inhaled Reynard’s scent, all dark fir and resin, clouding his senses. He had dearly missed savouring every bit of Reynard, feeling his large body against his own, the strong but sensual fingers massaging his scalp.

When they finally had to break apart to gasp for some air, Raphael was completely flustered. “What was that for?” he gasped.

Reynard looked dishevelled as well, but all the while amused. “I needed to distract you and to shut you up. You were heading into an obsession, spiralling into your worries and I wanted to break that up. Perhaps now you’re more than ready to listen to me.”

Raphael blushed, feeling a bit abashed. He eventually nodded.

“Could you give me the casket that’s in my nightstand’s drawer?” Raphael obliged Reynard and the king took a long golden key decorated with floral ornaments from it. He took Raphael’s right palm, caressed it tenderly before placing the key into it.

“Gullveig gave me this some months ago. She didn’t say much about it, just that I should give it to you when the time had come. Do you know what it is for?”

Raphael eyed the key unbelieving, turning it around over and over again. “I think it’s for her room in this castle, where she keeps her books, potions, ingredients, her witchcraft tools. What’s the meaning of this?” he asked more to himself than to Reynard. “Does it mean…?"

“She trusts you. See, I will be the first man to bear a child and you will be the first man to be a witch. It’s a first for both of us. We will manage. Have some faith, Raphael. You’re worthy. And not only Gullveig trusts you. I hope it means something to you, but I trust you as well. Because I love you.”

Raphael was stunned into silence. He blinked several times at Reynard as if blinking at his husband could cause a repeat of what he had heard. A ridiculous notion. Still he asked: “Can you say that again?”

Reynard laughed, his eyes twinkling. “I love you, Raphael. Is that so hard to understand?”

Against his will, Raphael blushed even more. But although he felt slightly embarrassed by being slow to catch on to what Reynard was saying, he felt the warmth from his cheeks spread over his whole body. The warmth holding him close was as if he was bathing in rays of sunshine.

“I love you, too,” Raphael murmured. He snuggled closer to Reynard, touching his husband’s cheeks with his left hand, relishing in the comforting sensation on skin on skin. “From the beginning on I was drawn to you; you were so down to earth for a king. Yet I always thought I was lacking something, that I could never be a proper husband for royalty. Now you made me realise that you were never looking for those elements I assumed I was lacking, but for other qualities. Like maybe the exact opposite?”

Raphael let his hand wander slowly down, stroking Reynard’s neck and then massaging his shoulders. “Sorry, I am rambling. I just don’t know how to put it into words. I feel like I finally have arrived at a place I can call truly my home. And that place is with you and our yet to be born child.”

Reynard moved his tunic upwards, revealing his bump, then he put Raphael’s hand right onto his belly. “I feel the same. This castle was so empty until you arrived. Soon, it will not only be filled with your kind-hearted presence, but I’ll have two souls to love.”

For the first time, Raphael could sense their baby’s movement. There was something tiny, maybe a little foot, reaching out to him. His heart skipped a beat. It seemed like a miracle, that there was something marvellous about to happen. Suddenly, all of Raphael’s doubts he had held before were washed away. They could do it, Reynard and him, they could bring the little one safely into this world, help them grow up loved and protected.

“Thank you for having faith in me, thank you for making me believe in myself, and most of all in us.” With a content smile on his face, Raphael leant back, carefully holding onto Reynard’s side, indulging in their bodies’ proximity. Reynard stroked Raphael’s hair and Raphael closed his eyes, enjoying this moment of intimacy. There still would be enough time to get all what he needed from Gullveig’s room. Now that he had regained his inner strength, Raphael was able to let go and just live in the moment for a while. He felt at peace.


End file.
